


Post-Twisted Sister

by I May Age Regress (shnuffeluv)



Series: Gibbs' Family [68]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Conflict Resolution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e09 Twisted Sister, Gen, Making Up, Non-Sexual Age Play, Touch-Starved, or the start of it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 07:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/I%20May%20Age%20Regress
Summary: It's after Sarah gets cleared of murder that she and Tim have a talk, leading to some...realizations, of a sort.





	Post-Twisted Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all. _Y'all._ First of all, let me just say: thank you to everyone who commented on my last work. Turns out, I needed to be hospitalized and I was diagnosed with PTSD on top of my pre-existing depression, causing both to be acting up and making me feel terrible. But I have new prescriptions, and when I came back from the hospital today, emotionally stable and only a little sick from being confined in the same hall with twelve other people for four days, I had _25 amazing comments waiting for me_.  
>  Not gonna lie, I almost cried. The fact that you all support me and care for me that much blows me away. I am...really speechless. All I can say is over and over again, thank you. I can't do it enough.
> 
> Second: I don't plan on this to be the complete and final ending for either a) the series or b) this particular story arc. I have a couple ideas for a new fic that I want to post after this, but one thing at a time, you know? I'll update with that when I think I've gotten it down, but not before. Until then...enjoy!

McGee and Sarah were sitting on a bench at Waverly University, both trying to absorb what had happened in the past day: Sarah being accused and subsequently exonerated for murder, McGee nearly quitting his job for her sake, finding the people who really did this and discovering their motives behind it...it all was a lot to take in, so it was a small wonder that they were just processing it _now_. Or at least, that's what McGee thought was going on until Sarah sighed. "Oh no," he laughed. "I know that sigh..."

"Tim--" Sarah started.

"Look, whatever you're going to say, I guarantee you I have already considered, and I don't need a second round of your meddling so soon after _this_ meddling in my life," McGee laughed.

"Tim, you're shaking, and have been for the past twenty minutes. At least. I think we need to talk," Sarah appealed.

"Right, like how you talked to me during this whole ordeal? The second I tried to do things the actual _legal_  way I was taught, you leave? Without even telling me why you think it's a bad idea?" McGee shook his head. "Sarah, we've never been much for verbal communication. Why now?"

Sarah turned to face him fully. "Because something's wrong."

"Something's wrong?" McGee laughed incredulously. "I'll say! You were just accused of murder!"

"Not what I meant!" Sarah exclaimed. "There's something wrong with _you_."

McGee rolled his eyes up in the effort it took to make a mental tally of how he was feeling. As far as he could tell, everything was coming up roses as much as anything could nowadays. "You've lost me."

Sarah leaned back against the bench, but never turned away from McGee. "Tim, we both know there's a side of you that never grew up. I've seen it, you've admitted to it, and we both know why that is..." A pregnant silence followed. "...And I'm still sorry I never spoke up. But I know it's still there. The way you acted today proved it. It was like...like your brain had short-circuited and you were waiting for directions from someone who could handle it better than you, only they never came."

"Look, why are we even discussing this?" McGee asked, ready to stand up and tell Sarah he would see her next weekend after finals if she wanted.

"Why did you _really_  want us to go to your boss?" Sarah fired back. "And don't say it's your job. You nearly quit that job over me today, you _know_  I won't believe you."

McGee sighed and slumped against the bench. He couldn't come up with a plausible lie. So he went for the truth. "You know? I honestly have no clue. He left just last year. No explanation, no goodbye. He was just gone. And...when he came back, he expected everything to be back to normal, like he never left. Didn't even say 'it's good to see you again,' or whatever crappy lie people use nowadays for that stuff. He didn't...he didn't consider we might have changed since he left, or that we might have a life outside the job, or...anything, really. He acted-"

"-Exactly like Dad did after a tour?" Sarah asked knowingly.

"Without as much belt buckle," McGee responded dryly. "But..."

"Tim...did he...know? About that side that never grew up?" Sarah asked.

"Know?" Tim laughed. "Not at first. But when he did, he did more than just acknowledge it. He tried to _take care_  of it. All things considered, a big waste."

"Because he left and came back, more or less like Dad--"

"He's nothing like Dad," McGee interrupted. "His actions may seem like it, but he's not supposed to be--"

"So what _is_  he supposed to be, Tim?" Sarah asked. "Who was he, to you?"

McGee swallowed. He shrugged. "Does it matter? He's not that anymore."

Sarah looked in the direction where Gibbs was, talking with the security on campus about their delinquent officer. "He knew about your kid side. And he didn't care. More than that, he wanted to help. And you don't think he deserves a second chance?"

McGee laughed, though he knew it sounded more like a sob than a laugh. "You _have_  to be joking."

"I always was the one better with people," Sarah muttered. "Tim, you could tell that Gibbs really wanted to help you. And I know even _you_  felt his hurt when you told him you couldn't trust him with this whole situation. Don't act like that wasn't exactly what you said to me with your _I'm feeling guilty but trying to hide it_  face. You _know_  he felt betrayed. And he helped you anyway. He's trying to prove himself to you as someone you can trust. Something that Dad never did. So maybe he deserves something Dad doesn't."

"I've...I've told you already. I've considered everything you have to say," McGee said, voice getting softer as he could feel Timmy about to snap. "I've thought through all of this. And I've already decided--"

"You decided wrong," Sarah cut off. "You're not infallible. Maybe your boss doesn't deserve a second chance. Maybe you know something I don't. But I _do_  know that he was doing something to help you. Tim, you were _stimming_  at your apartment this morning, and you didn't even realize you were doing it. I haven't seen you openly stim in years, if not _two whole decades_. So maybe he doesn't deserve a second chance. Maybe you're right. But _you_  definitely deserve one. And your boss, whatever he was doing? Helped you get that second chance that _you_  deserved."

McGee buried his head in his hands, before dragging his hands down his face, and only covering his mouth in case he _actually_  started crying, instead of the horrible sick feeling he had all over. Because Sarah was right. No matter how much he tried to deny it, there was something about him that still wanted his Papa back. And that was _possible_  now. And Gibbs had been working in spades to prove himself. It was subtle, but it was there, smacking him over the head with how obvious it was to him, even if no one else on the team saw it. "And what happens if he does it again?" he asked.

"He won't," Sarah said.

"How can you be so sure?" McGee asked.

"After all he's doing to try and make it up to you? There's no way he'd risk losing you again," Sarah said.

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Timmy shook his head and he started crying. Sarah hugged him tightly and murmured, "Do you want to go over there and tell him you're ready to give him a second chance, or should I?"

Timmy took a shuddering breath. "I can do it."

"So should I go over there and tell him?" Sarah asked, amused.

"Shut up," Timmy protested. "I'm eight years older than you."

"That's debatable," Sarah laughed, standing up. "Stay."

Timmy watched her go and nearly laughed when he could just barely hear her say, "Something tells me your surrogate son wants to speak with you."

Papa looked over to Timmy, said something to the head of security, and approached in a jog. "You told your sister?" he asked.

"More like...she always knows somehow no matter what I do," Timmy mumbled. "That and we both knew I went little since I was in college if not earlier, though we didn't have a word for it."

"Ah," Papa said. "She said you wanted to tell me something?"

"Mm...probably. Not sure what it is, though," Timmy said.

"So, what, am I supposed to wait here until you say it?" he asked.

Timmy shrugged and wiped his tears away. "'S what you always used to do," he said innocently. "I thought all Papas did that." He grinned when Papa looked shocked. "What?" he asked. "Was I wrong?"

"You're a stinker sometimes, you know that?" Papa asked, "C'mere."

Timmy gladly wrapped his arms around Papa for a hug, and spied Sarah grinning proudly over Papa's shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at her. She stuck hers out back and waved, heading to class. Papa chuckled. "Your sister gloating?"

"Mhm," Timmy confirmed. "So I stuck my tongue out at her to show I wasn't amused. She knows what it means."

Papa chuckled. "I hope so."

"Well, she did it back before heading to her next class, so I think so. She didn't take it personally, at least," Timmy said, stepping back from the hug.

Papa put his hands on Timmy's shoulders. "You _know_  I didn't mean to hurt you?" he asked.

Timmy shrugged. "I dunno about _knowing_  anything about people. But Sarah thinks you and I both deserve a second chance, and she's usually right."

"I should send her a thank-you card or something," Papa laughed.

Timmy shrugged again. "If that's what boring adults like, then she'd love it."

Papa laughed. "Your sister is not boring."

"She's an adult, so she's boring by default," Timmy said, grinning.

"I'll be sure to inform DiNozzo of your esteemed opinion of him, then, since he's also an adult," Papa said, wrapping an arm around Timmy's shoulders and guiding him to their car.

"Well he _is_  boring as an adult! He's always trying to stop me having fun!" Timmy justified.

"Considering your version of fun is glitter-bombing someone's desk, I'm hardly surprised," Papa laughed.

"That _is_  fun!"

"Not for the janitors who have to clean up the glitter tracked into the carpet," Papa pointed out.

Timmy whined. "You're not gonna stop arguing about this if I don't are you?"

"Nope," Papa said.

Timmy sighed, shaking his head. He looked down at his hands, which were still trembling a little. He wasn't sure if it was from panic or exhaustion at this point. "Papa?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"How long have I been shaking?" he asked.

"That I've noticed...? Forty-five minutes, so you've probably been doing it about an hour, since I know when you start feeling it it's so subtle no one else can notice it," Papa said. "You've been really worked up today, so I'm not surprised."

"And you didn't stop me from working?" he asked.

"Well, you needed to make sure your sister was okay. Family's worth the exhaustion," Papa said.

"Sarah was right," Timmy said.

"How's that?" Papa asked.

"You _have_  been working hard to make sure I can trust you," Timmy said. "Anyone else you would have benched at the first sign of trouble."

Papa laughed. "Yeah? Your sister's smart. Smarter than I thought. I might try and hire her..."

"Absolutely not!" Timmy exclaimed.

"Easy, baby boy! I was just teasing. I know you wouldn't want her in a job as dangerous as ours," Papa said. "I don't intend to ask her to work for _any_  part of NCIS."

"Good," Timmy said, nodding.

"Kiddo?" Papa asked.

Timmy turned to him expectantly.

"I know you haven't been over in a while...but would you like to come home tonight?"

"Only if you drive," Timmy said. "Cars are scary to drive when I haven't even gone to kindergarten yet."

Papa laughed so hard Timmy saw tears in the corners of his eyes. Timmy just grinned proudly in response.

* * *

Timmy was in the nursery, sitting on his bed, rubbing his fingers against his baby blanket. It was soft, and he knew it smelled like Papa again--something he had truly thought wasn't going to happen, though he had never quite wrapped his head around the concept. He supposed loss was funny like that.

While Timmy was dressed, right down to the Pull-Ups he was slightly resenting tonight, he didn't want to get up and go downstairs and just play. He thought that was all he would really want when he was going over what might happen tonight earlier today--Papa was proving that he really wanted to stay, meaning he could come and go as he pleased for support when he needed it. Papa would be there. And yet...something wasn't right about just going downstairs and playing to unwind. He was craving being cuddled, hugged, and loved. He wanted forehead kisses and soft smiles and attention. But he wasn't feeling younger than normal. He was definitely five. Maybe he was even feeling closer to six than usual. Still. He wanted all the things he got when he was younger than normal.

Papa knocked on the door and Timmy jumped. How long had he been sitting here? "Feeling all right, kiddo?" Papa asked.

Timmy shrugged. Voicing what he wanted was going to be difficult on his brain and his dignity tonight, he could already tell.

Papa walked over and sat next to him on the bed. "What's eating at you, kid?"

Timmy sighed and pulled his blanket into his lap, squeezing it for comfort. "I'm...not smaller than normal. But...I feel different."

"Different how?" Papa asked.

"I dunno?" Timmy said honestly. "I just...I want to be like, cuddled and stuff. And it's making me feel different. And a bit sad. But I usually only want that when I'm smaller."

Papa put a hand on Timmy's head, lightly scratching his scalp and Timmy leaned into the touch on instinct. He whined when Papa moved his hand away, and he didn't even care if he sounded needy. He wanted the touch back _right now_.

"Kiddo, you're touch-starved. When's the last time you hugged someone, before today?"

"Um...last time I was here, maybe?" Timmy asked.

Papa shook his head. "Tonight, you are getting as many cuddles as you need to feel better." He stood up and Timmy whined again. Papa turned to look at him. "Yeah, kid?"

Timmy blushed a little. He saw this whole situation as a bit embarrassing, but he really wanted this. "I know I'm a big kid tonight, but I was wondering if...maybe you could carry me?"

"Sure. Up you go," Papa said, not batting an eye as he lifted Timmy up.

The boy squeaked in surprise and clung to Papa the second he got the chance. Papa just chuckled and ran his free hand through Timmy's hair. Timmy rested his head on Papa's shoulder and closed his eyes. That felt _nice_. He didn't even notice them walking downstairs, though he did hear Tony ask, "Papa? Why's Timmy a limp noodle?"

"He needed hugs and he's finally getting them," Papa replied simply.

"He's _purring_ ," Tony pointed out.

Timmy turned bright red as he realized he had indeed been making a noise that sounded like a cat's purr.

"Yup, well, he really needed hugs," Papa replied, continuing to run his hand through Timmy's hair. "C'mon, Timmy, let's go get dinner ready."

Timmy's head lolled to the side on Gibbs' shoulder, and he was disappointed when he was placed on the kitchen counter, though Gibbs kept a reassuring hand on his leg. "What would you like to eat tonight kiddo?"

"I get to choose?" Timmy asked, mildly surprised.

"Well, yeah. Tonight's your night," Gibbs said.

Timmy pretended to think it over, though he knew exactly what he wanted to have. "Sliders!" he said.

"With cheese or without?" Gibbs asked, going to the freezer and pulling out a box of small frozen hamburger patties.

"Yes," Timmy said with a glint in his eye.

Gibbs tickled Timmy under the chin and chuckled. "Right, then. How many are you gonna have?"

"Dunno," Timmy said with a shrug. It was always Papa's job to keep track of that sorta thing.

"Three it is," Papa said. "Anything more can be what the others don't want, anything less and I'll eat the leftovers."

Timmy nodded. That was practical, that was routine, that was...normal. He didn't realize how much he needed some normalcy until now. His adult side had quieted significantly in grumbling since Gibbs had been back a while, but that didn't mean his little side was completely ready to give up the grudge, until now. Now he just seemed happy to be home.

Papa moved around him in preparing everything, but always kept one hand on Timmy, just in case, which Timmy appreciated greatly. When dinner was done, Papa moved him out to the dining room, narrowly missing Tony running head-on to his seat unapologetically. Time seemed to suddenly catch up to Timmy, or maybe he had finally exited the haze of being touch-starved. Either way, the sliders were delicious and he ate all three, making a mess of his face with a blend of ketchup and mustard, but he wasn't half as bad as Tony was.

"You two need baths," Papa decided, standing up. "Come on, let's get you cleaned before we do anything else."

Timmy didn't protest, though Tony grumbled at the fact that he couldn't just play when ketchup was practically dripping off his hands.

When they got upstairs, Tony went into the bathroom first, and Timmy sat down against the wall, waiting for his turn to get a bath. Within what felt like seconds, Papa was shaking him. "Hey, kiddo, wake up, it's time for your bath."

"Hm?" Timmy opened his eyes, blinking slowly. He must have dozed off.

"Someone's tired tonight, isn't he?" Papa teased.

"Not s'eepin'," Timmy protested, even as his eyes started to close again.

"Uh-huh," Papa said, clearly amused.

Timmy was pretty out of it during the whole process, though he did stir more when Papa took a washcloth to his face. He hated that when he didn't have a warning. "Sorry," Papa said.

"Mph," Timmy grumbled.

"Feeling okay, kiddo?" Papa asked. "You seem out of it."

Timmy rubbed at his eyes and yawned. "Wasn' sleepin' well for a while. 'S getting better, though."

"Okay..." Papa said, clearly skeptical about something.

Timmy checked out of it again before coming to being picked up out of the tub and getting dressed in PJs. "I think you should probably just go to bed, huh?" Papa asked.

"Nooo..." Timmy whined. "I c'n stay up..."

"Yeah, for all of thirty seconds," Papa teased. "Come on, to bed with you."

"No," Timmy repeated, though Papa had already picked him up and had started carrying him out of the bathroom.

"Why not?" Papa asked.

"Don' want you to leave me," Timmy mumbled.

There was a pregnant pause until Papa kissed Timmy on the forehead. "Kiddo, I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

And Timmy believed in those words with all his heart.


End file.
